


Butt Load of Things for a Friend

by Madam_Mark



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-08
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-01-30 23:15:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12663435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madam_Mark/pseuds/Madam_Mark
Summary: A friend wanted me to put all my stories here whether they are finished (story or chapter) or not.Most is crap from years ago.They won't be in order of when they were made unfortunately.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Unfinsihed chapter.  
> One I'm most proud of (especially since I wrote it when I could barely feel my fingers in the cold)

    “Hey, Jude, what are you doing after school today?” One bubbly girl in her late teens smiling down at her fellow student as she held her bag behind her back with both hands. Her rosie cheeks and neat black hair was studied by the bored red eyes of this ‘Jude' she mentioned. This teenage boy was still sat at his desk, his long black plaited hair cascading over the front if his shoulder as he examined the ends fondly. When he did look to the girl he merely blinked, thin lips slightly parted as he tried to recalled what he'd been asked. The dark haired girl found a slightly darker blush crawling its way onto her cheeks at his expression and hoped he wouldn't notice or would perhaps dismiss it.

    “...After school...?” Jude's lips pulled down at the corners into a frown, not catching the whole enquiry.

    “I was wondering if you were doing anything; I don't have anything planned so I figured we could do something - if you're free of course. -”

    “Hahaha! Being as persistant as ever I see, Haru!” The two dark haired students turned their gazes to two others walking their way over to them, one of which interrupted Haru's invitation to Jude. The two approaching Jude and Haru were twins, identical in facial features but with contrasting hairstyles - one with shoulder length light-brown hair tied into a ponytail while the other had their light-brown hair styled short and wavy.

    “Makodo!” Haru glared as she continued to scold the short haired twin.

    “Heh, he never gives Haru a break,” stated the long haired twin who was currently pulling out a desk chair from in front of Jude.

    “Oh, hey Rin.” Jude was watching the two others arguing childishly while Rin lowered himself into the chair backwards so he could face Jude. “What's up with those two? They have a thing for each other or something?” Rin simply chuckled at his red-eyed friend.

    “Maybe you're denser than I thought.” Jude turned his questioning gaze to Rin. “Haru doesn't like Makodo, she likes the guy sitting right in front of me. -”

    “I doubt that; she makes too much of an effort focusing on how to get me to go on a date with her she loses sight of the person she actually likes. Look at them,” Rin watched the slightly flushed face of his friend as his brother hooked his arm around her neck with a cheeky grin as he looked at her sideways. Both were unaware of the quiet conversation and watchful eyes. “My theory is that she likes him more than she likes me, she just hasn't realised because you three have been friends longer than you have with me. -” Jude paused after recieving the shocked expression from Rin whose hazel eyes were large and his mouth was gaping. “...You'll catch flies.” Jude gently reached his pale hand to Rin's face, his long fingers delicately resting beneath his chin to push his mouth closed. Upon feeling Jude's fingers meet his skin, Rin froze staring into the eyes of the boy in front of him whose head was cocked ever so slightly to the right. And as sudden as the hand touched Rin's soft skin it left, leaving the exposed chin cold. “Why'd you look so shocked at what I said? It couldn't have been all that bad.” Jude pouted unconciously, looking childish as he held his head up with the palm of his hand.

    “Oh, erm... Well,” Rin removed his gaze from Jude in order to compose himself, “it's just - I thought you were denser than that, that's all.”

    “Even the densest of people could see she fancies me, with the constant blushing she does around me.”

    “You don't seem all that pleased.”

    “Hm...” Both hazel and ruby eyes watched Haru go through her bag while Mokodo turned his attention to the two that were sat silently as they observed. The short haired twin stood himself by his brother, hands in the pockets of his black school trousers the same as all other students'. His uniform differed only in the form of an added white hoodie under his navy school jacket, covering a long sleeved white shirt and navy tie.

    “Are we gonna go somewhere or not? I don't wanna be hanging ’round here all day.” Mokodo looked first at his brother then to Jude. “Haru said she'd come too.”

    “Since when?” Haru sat herself on an ajacent desk, arms crossed with no hint of a blush on her cheeks.

    “Since you were just asking Jude to go on a date with -” Makodo started to counter before Haru swung her bag at him.

    “I never asked to go on a date!” Her fist was clenched on the leather strap on her bag, greatly aware of her red face caused by both embarrassment and annoyance. Rin laughed at their antics but Jude sighed tiredly.

    “Look,” Jude stood, pulling the chair out from underneath him with his right hand while grabbing hold of his bag with his left, “I'm a bit preoccupied with other things right now. Maybe we could hang out another time.” Jude didn't wait for a responce and instead navigated his way through the rows of clear, empty desks as his three friends watched him go on his way.

    But not for long. Haru raced out if the classroom after him.

    “Jude!” Haru speed walked over to him when she spotted his long black hair swaying side to side as he walked. “Hey, Jude,” she started, latching onto his arm to make him turn towards her, “since you're busy now, why don't we meet up later?”

    “I don't know how long I'll be.” Jude replied with indifference. “Besides, what's there to do anyway?”

    “Well... We've both got that art assignment, why don't we do that together.” The brown-eyed girl held two fingers up while giving a sweet closed-eye smile, “Two's always better than one, after all!”

\-------------------------

    Jude, irritated and tired, slipped his shoes off at the front door of his and his mothers small appartment. It was a neat little place with plenty of room for two individuals to live contently with no bold colours to strain the eyes.

    “Mam? You home?” Jude hung his school bag on the hook above where he placed his shoes. Pausing in speech as he waited for a responce, Jude looked around the appartment for any sign of his mother. It seemed she wasn't home. “Hm, not home then,” voiced the black-haired youth upon seeing an empty kitchen - nearly empty, at least. Sitting on the table was a chocolate smothered cake with a folded note beside it.

    ‘Judar,’ it read, ‘I've been called in for work. Help yourself to a slice of cake. Love Mam.’ Jude's thin pale lips turned up into a small soft smile as he read the white slip of paper. He took his time collecting all things neccassary for him to enjoy the home-made cake - plate, knife, fork and a square red napkin in all. And seeing as he couldn't evade Haru he'd take his time to get his things together before departing from his appartment with his art work. With little work, the cake, strawberry and cream between two chocolate sponges all covered in a thick chocolate icing, was successfully cut and plated.

    Jude took himself and his plate of cake to his small room. It contained a single bed sheeted with lime green covers, a desk of metal holding neccassary items, and a wardrobe full of various clothes. Splashes of many colours covered the lime green walls and the rectangular carpet that covered the wooden floor was similar in style. Jude sat himself at his desk after placing the delicious food down with the napkin and fork, here he'd eat and collect his things together before trecking his way to Haru's home. He picked the silver fork to seperate a small chunk of chocolate cake from the portion while he moved his left index finger in a circular motion on the top of the lamp to the side of the desk.. To him it was incredibly tiresome keeping those around him content while he himself found many of the things they did trivial but, he remembered with annoyance, he'd been bound far too long ago to a promise he should have never agreed to. Such a long time ago that was, just a mere child that dug themselves a hole and trap combined, with so many years ago one would assume the promise terminated - no such luck with Judar who, with a sigh, would think of a way to get out of it and forever fail as he would never go through with his plan of action; he would always shy away from having to do something. With a deep sigh Jude leaned back in his chair. He really needed something to do, there was no point denying that fact, so he'd go on his way to Haru's.

\----------------------------------------

    "Oh, Jude, you're here earlier than I expected," Haru smiled when she opened the door to reveal Jude, unchanged from his school uniform but slightly more casual and with his bag across his body. Haru was in her uniform's shirt, skirt and socks and considerably more approachable than Jude with her large friendly smile. "So you've finished what you were doing?" She stepped out the way as she held the door open, inviting Jude in.

    "... Well... no." Jude's back was to Haru was he took his dull school shoes off his feet. "Mam made some chocolate cake, you see," with his shoes successfully from his feet he turned back to Haru who gestured for them to walk through the house to the reasonably sized living room where paints, paper, brushes and pencils lay on the low table, "and she'd put a note out for me to take some. She was called into work."

    "They've been calling her in a lot lately, haven't they?" The two sat at the table, Jude cross-legged and Haru with her legs under her body. The dark haired boy nodded in reply as he opened his bag and searched through it for the right work.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know what's going on in this one...

     “You have work in an hour; I set the job up when I knew you were staying. You be unloading furniture into homes for a moving company.”

     “I didn't know about this. And I've only just arrived, I'm too tired to even unpack my belongings.”

     “Useless boy. You should have slept on the plane.”

     “How did you expect me to sleep when I have a fear of heights?”

     “Tsk, real men don’t fear heights. And when real men do have a fear they over come it.”

     “Ha! Yeah right. I guess we’d have to rule Granpap out of the “real men” catorgory with him having a phobia of -” The slap from my Granmam was unexpected, painful and so strong it twisted my head to the side. My eyes stung and my vision became blurry, my first thought was that the slap had knocked my contacts out of place but I realised what it was as a watery substance slid down my redend cheek. Granmam looked as if she hadn't even moved; she was stood calmly just how she'd been before her hand made contact with my face, with her wrinkled hands clasped in front of her and her demenour was authoritive.

     “You are under our roof now, boy. You will treat us with respect.” She clapped her hands together like she was about to pray. “You will do as you are told.” Clap. “You will speak only when spoken to or granted permission by either of us.” Clap. “And you will not were that stupid make-up, use those contacts or dye your hair.” Clap. “Do you understand, boy?”

     I swallowed hard. “Yes,” I muttered in a much less angery tone than I'd intended, my nerves just wouldn't allow me anything else.

     “Good.” Granmam’s eyes lingered on my face with a wrinkled nose as if there was an unpleasant smell right under her nostrils. “We have a lot of work ahead of us, transforming our son's child from a pretty princess into a real man, husband.” I never really understood why they called each other “husband” and “wife” rather than their names, I suppose that's what an arranged marriage does.

     I stared at Granmam until she left me to myself along with Granpap who looked very pleased with his wife. Why couldn't I have been a stuck up brat who refused to move out to give my father time with his new wife? Of course, I did want to move out here for my own benefit too but that's beside the point. I continued to scold myself throughout the hour I had before the work I was being forced to do but I scolded myself while being active, sorting through the many boxes that contained my belongings (one I was more than happy not to let Granmam see since it contained a supply of hair dye). By the time I was halfway up the stairs of my grandparents house with another large box an hour had past and the doorbell was ringing its little ding-dong tune.

     I looked over my shoulder at the door then to the heavy box in my arms. Do I make them wait or do I make another trip up the stairs? I chose the first option and navigated my way towards the room I'd been given. It was small and hotel-like (minus the boxes I had scattered around) with plain magnolia walls and cream carpet to match with boring furniture that seemed to be a set until closer inspection. This place could never be homely just by the feeling in the whole house of being unwelcome. I was sure to not be extending my stay by any amount of time. The sound of the doorbell ringing for a second time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeerm

     “What the hell is that thing? And why did you bring it inside the palace walls?” hissed a voice that echoed through the cobblestone corridor-like room. Two men were engaged in a whispered discussion, neither knowing exactly what it was they should do about their ... little problem.

     “We gotta tell someone,” said the short of the two who chewed on his bottom lip, the only properly visible part of his face due to the helmet he wore. “We can't just leave it ‘ere, it might be dangerous!”

     The taller man scoffed, “I can't see how that could be dangerous. Jus' look at it!”

     “Yer never know, it might be like a baby dragon; it could be super strong and rip yer head clean off,” the weak-chinned man exclaimed in an over-exited tone as if there wasn't anything better than something taking your head for its own collection.

     "Sure, sure, cos stuff like that actually exists. We should jus'... drag it off to the woods and jus' leave it there." The other man gaped like a fish trying to comprehend what had just been suggested.

     "But - but... What if it comes back?" The two men looked at the strange mass that lay in a heap on the floor.

     To say it human was a long shot but it was, in some ways, humanoid. For one thing, it was covered head to... tail in tiny scales. And in place of legs was what could be described as a fish minus the head.

     "... Fine, we'll tell someone. Stay with it - and don't touch it!"  the taller of the men ordered as he climbed his way up the stone stairs leaving the large man alone with a strange creature. He was truthfully very interested in the odd fish-being and did indeed want to inspect it but who knows what may happen? As harmless as it seems, in an unmoving lump, it could lash out and slash his throat! The man physically shivered at the gruesome thought.

     "Well ain't you a sorry sod," he sighed, kneeling down close but still a fair distance away from the fish-being. He took hus metal helmet off, revealing a head of brown curly locks and a soft round face. Making sure to keep himself balanced the man leaned forwards centimenters aways from the being.

     The fish-being had so many delicate scales, like butterfly wings! he thought, golden-orange in colour but dull. Looking closer, the man noticed the fish-being was slimey-looking, a bit wet on parts of its body. Ignoring that, the man looked to the fish-beings rather human face, incredibly long ginger hair and body. As far as he could see, the fish-being did indeed have half a full body of normal human attached to some orange scaled fish body.

     That was all he could look at before he heard the distinct sound of rushing men heading his way.

     Cursing into the air the short man stumbled onto his feet and awkwardly attempted to seem normal while rushing to fit his helmet back on. He bit his lip as he listened to the 'clink' of two sets of feet hitting each step as they decended to the small room he and the fish-being were in. The taller of the two men had certainly informed someone of the strange being. This someone happening to be an off duty semi-personal guard to the royals of the palace.

     The guard stood for a long time, too long for the short man to count, just staring at the pile that was the fish-being.

     "... What is this?" the guard asked in a calm voice to contrast the enraged demenour he was presenting. "What d'you two think you're playing at? Stop wasting my time -"

     "Sir!" ... An odd silence settled in the air. "W-with all due respect," weak chinned as he may be the short man was weak when standing up to what he believes is the certain true, that was clear to them all, "we didn't call yer here to waste yer time, sir..." Recieving a wide-eye look from his taller partner he continued. "See, I found it out in the palace grounds... the edge of the woods really... I thought it was someone tryin' ter get in - passed out before they did, mind - so I - I brought 'em in. For questioning, like. But then, in the light - it was dark out you see, too dark to see clearly... I noticed it wasn't quite right so I just put it down and had a look... well, I called Jakes over pretty sharpish..." There wasn't much to be said after that in all honesty. The man was dim in the area of common sense for sure, anyone could see that a mile away.

     "So you decided... Bloody hell, are you stupid man?!" the guard roared and the man flinched back. He was terrifying. He paced around the corridor-like room deep in thought; this was something very new and he had no idea how to deal with it. He, if course, should be able to deal with little problems such as this... But how does one deal with something never seen before? It was quite the dilema. "This is a stupid joke," he mumbled. He stopped just to stare at the fish-being. It looked like a dead lump of fish and man. Or it did... until he went to check for a pulse in the neck.

     Gils. That's what was there. And they were opening and closing quickly, desperate for air... Or water? Whichever it was this fish-being needed.

     "Argh!" The guard stumbled back in shock. "The damn thing is alive! What the hell is that thing?!"

     "W-what? But-"

     "Whatever it is it's alive," the guard interrupted quickly. A silence fell over them again.

     "...What're we gonna do?" enquired the tall man who was now closer to the stairs than anyone else.

     "We... We..."

     "We could... keep it?" If a pin dropped it would echo. The two men, guard and taller, stared at the weak chinned man with a look of horror. Who'd have known they wouldn't take that suggestion well? "As-as a attraction! For the royal family! Yer know, like, show off that they have somethin' exotic and... new?" The taller man stormed toward him, anger evident on his face.

     "I cannot believe you'd suggest that! What're you thinking man?!" The taller man grabbed him by the front. "Don't you think before you blabber on?" If the anger in his voice wasn't evidence enough the violent shaking of the shorter man was.

     "That's enough, Sol," spoke the guard from behind the pair. "Unfortunately, Gwen is right." The two men were staring at him as he spoke, Sol the taller man slowly letting the other go. "The royals may like his suggestion so we can't cross it out but we can suggest against it," he sighed, pondering how he could sway the royals to just dismiss the fish-being as some foul creature. However, they were well known for their... exotic and unusual taste for all things new. "For now keep an eye on this... whatever it is. Won't be too much work. If anything changes call for me." To an end of that note the guard bustled off and left Sol and Gwen to their babysitting - of a half-dead fish-being.

\---

     "...Wife walked in on him with two other women," Sol was telling Gwen. "Joined in too, she did." Their laughter filled the room but quickly died; they'd been sat there for a good hour by this time and could safely say they were at the point of boredom they didn't know how to deal with. With nothing to talk about it only took Gwen a few minutes to start squirming on the stone step he claimed as his seat.

     "Hey... Sol, d'you think it'd be alright if I... Er..." Upong seeing Sol's scowling face Gwen knew he needed to change what he was saying. "Sh-should I check on it?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inkheart fanfic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted a car humr after reading Inkheart and this is (I think) the only way it'd fit.

    Rain fell that night, a fine, whispering rain. Many years later, Seth need only close his eyes to hear it, tapping it's tiny fingers on the window beckoning him into their cooling grasp. This was the rain that called to him each night, with their gentle voices soothing his pain, the pain that ran feel within his veins and through his broken soul. Each night, as he lay on the cold, hard, sort covered stones that provided a bed for him to rest his slim body upon. With his back pressed against the bloody wall, despite the pain of the open wounds torn into his back inflicted on his master's orders or the pain of the shackles chaining him in place that rubbed into the raw skin of his wrists, ankles and neck, Seth refused to close his reddened eyes until he heard that first droplet of rain to tap the weak glass.

    Seth's blood-red iris' looked longingly at the dusty window. Like every night, he wondered desperately if he'd ever taste air fresher than that of what he was currently breathing, if he'd ever feel the cool tears if the rain or the warm faze of the sun, if he'd ever smell the odour of something but the damp that his cell worshipped. All these longings, all these enquiries, they were all that kept him hopeful in times of great sorrow as he wished for anything but the birth of his abnormal self. No matter how many times he drempt of the world that was once his to call home, the world outside his minute cell, that small nuicense of a voice that took refuge in the back of his mind always called out his answer. The answer that he'd truely accepted deep in the hollowest part of his heart. An answer, such a simple answer, so absurd to believe otherwise; no. That was all - no, his master would rather Seth withering in imense pain and longing for escape as he took the slow path to Death's waiting embrace, being taunted by that small glass window so far out his reach.

    The night Seth discovered the journey he was to take started with a dull click and jingle of keys being heard through Seth's lonesome thoughts and desires, and his gaze flickered like a candle in the wind to the tall figure entering the cell. The heavy wooden door creaked to a close behind the man and two petite women. Seth stared with his dull, hollow red eyes. The man was clearly the usual guard, with a polished breastplate peotecting him from the darkness that tried to engulf him, he'd never realise it had already taken him from within. At his hip was a long sword in the case on his leather belt, the swords' hilt shining in the light of the blazing, golden flames of the torch held tight in his right gloved hand, in the other was a set of keys held within Seth's sight with a sneer upon his face hidden behind a polished helmet. The two women were maids of Seth's master, their dresses were finer than those of peasants or farmers wives or rich merchants maids for Seth's master was the ruler of a realm larger than any other and richer in provisions and wealth. Even more so than even Argenta where the Adderhead ruled with fear through fear, fear of the White Women, and with such power that killing seemed a mere sport in his eyes - and Lombrica, the realm of the Laughing Prince who ruled in laughter and fine light; the festivals held in Ombra (before the fat old ruler's angelic son died by the hands of firre-raisers) couldn't hold a candle to those held within the realm of Seth's master, Alethio - the largest and wealthiest of all realms laying far east of the other two well known realms.

    The two women Seth lay before wore fine dresses fit for a royal maid, the colours a deep blue to symbolise the coat-of-arms of Seth's master, not unlike the detailed sumbol on the guard's breastplate; a deep blue background to a set of golden scales on which perched the white skeleton of a raven, wings outstretched and glowing ruby red eyes glaring out at those who dare oppose it, the same red of the fallen tear beneith the balanced scales. Upon the shoulders of the women were rags, many of them, intended to clean the wounds Seth bore on his fragile body. In their rough hands were buckets creaking under the weight of the water that filled them.

    All three studied Seth's broken figure. From his hollow blood-red eyes to the red raw wound on his incredibly pale neck that seemed to have never met the sun's rays, his white-blonde hair matted with dirt and blood, his own or otherwise, to his pointed large cat-like white ears flattened against the top of his head from where they sprouted from, his bare chest bruised and cut and showing off his ribs to his long, white tail poking theough the filthy ripped trousers that hung loosely onto his frame, and finally to the bloodied stones of the wall and ground surrounding Seth.

    At long last, the guard stepped forward, Seth watching him with hidden fright as he unlocked the chains binding him in place. The shackles on the anckles went first, clinking carelessly to the cold ground. The guard then moved to the wrists, lazily inserting the rusted, unique key into the dark hole hidden on the underside of Seth's wrist-chains. Finally came the chains around Seth's neck. The guard lingered close to Seth's body as he slowly unlocked the chain, brushing his fingers against the raw, sensitive skin on Seth's neck not in the slightest way gently as he removed the last attatchment to the wall. Seth would never forget the sneer of that particular guard, not until Death took him into her welcoming arms for a second time, for that sneer was to be imprinted into his already tormented mind that very night. Yet when Seth was to think back to the moment, he'd never be able to define the point that it truely had first destroyed him; such a long time ago or a short time ago? Seth could never be certain, but he knew at the time it would be for such a long time to come.

    Once the guard retreated, the two women came forward on his order, some of the water spilling over the sides of the buckets as the were carelessly placed down. While one woman began soaking rags in the cool water the other brought Seth into an upright position without any retaliation from the youth himself.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a Magi fanfic (anime)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thisnis basically me adding a place into the world and making it work with it. It doesn't follow the plot greatly.

    “Capricorn... is a very distant child. All I want is for him to open up to his brother and I... Is that such a selfish thing?” enquired the gentle, fememine voice that held a hint of displeasure.  
    “I assure you are not being selfish; as his mother it is only natural to harmonize your family. We'll take him in for the next few months and, hopefully, things will get better from there. After all, it may be that he has things on his mind - some time away from home could be just what he needs... Now, as a matter of money for his stay, things aren't free after all...” A second voice was heard, deeper and all the more pleasured. The boy of eighteen that the two voices spoke of stood grounded on the spot, looking neither at or away from the large, beautifully designed, golden door.  
    He was easily noticable, dressed in a black top that covered the top half of his chest, a light, white, sleeveless over-coat that hooked together at the middle of his top and with the back splitting just below the shoulder-blades into two long flowing triangular pieces of fabric that ended below his backside, he wore trousers of black which was covered by the same type of material used for the over-coat but this covered the sides of the black trousers down to the ankles, on his feet were flat black shoes that covered only his toes, soles and heel, latching around the ankles by a thin yet strong black thread which had two rounded golden bells each at the ends, tied on his wrists and neck were wider black treads to that around his ankles but each were the same, long pieces of fabric split in two with rounded golden bells at their ends, and in each ear was a shining golden ring, a small rounded goldren bell dangling at the end of each one. His hair (unlike his mother's shining black hair and his father's thick dark blonde hair, causing unspoken questions about his birth) contrasted against the two shades and the gold, being vibrant in orange colour, as with its short length, it barely tickled the base of his neck much to the detest of his mother and brother, who had not long ago taken the throne of Alethema, a country founded in the near past, after the tragic death of their father whom died of disease outbreak that stole many lives both young and old. His jawline was strong lile his father's but his skin was much too soft like his mother's. A small mouth and thin lip, pale pink lips were frequently unused around memebers of the royal family, servents and guards. And not only was his hair of bright colour but his eyes too; unlike the royals of Alethema, his eyes slanted upwards on the outer side of his face slightly giving him a unique look to those around him, these eyes were narrowed and sharp, the eyelashes long and fememine, and the irises favoured the incredible shades of a sun set, oranges and reds with a hint of yellow - these eyes stared forward, shocked and sorrowful for the information mistakingly heard was undoubtfully predictable; what royal family would want a child that looked so unsimilar their birth must be questioned? What royal family would want a child that refused to show interest in the family affairs? What royal family would want a child, a son, that refused to select a possible future wife that could benefit their family? Capricorn was not the Alethema families ideal child.  
    The mumbled voices from within the room to Capricorn's right were still in conversation as he took his chance to quickly escape from that area. He walked through the smooth stoned hallways, jingles from the bells he wore echoing in the wide space, the bright colours of blues and purples creating the patterns that coated the walls, floors, ceillings, and doors, and defined by a shimmering gold that finished the fine detail. Capricorn was used to the decor of the palace, the short time that he'd been living in it didn't seem to bother him to a great extent, being able to adapt to change wasn't an abnormal for him. While he walked he listened to the tapping sound his shoes made when he stepped, the ringing melody of the jingling bells as they were pulled along by each bit of fabric, the soft swish of his clothes as ge moved his body, and the quietness of his surroundings in the empty hallways. That was what Capricorn found abnormal, the silence in such a large building that housed very few people. He thought about it quiet frequently, not fully understanding why he minded it so much.  
    “Capricorn! There you are!” Of course, whenever Capricorn were to think such things his brother would always arrive as if to prove that it was not as empty and as quiet as it seemed. But that would always prove Capricorn right. Capricorn waited in the middle of the hallway as his brother approached. The mature man with his large build and tall stature walked with purpose, long brown-blonde hair, that's fringe partly covered two ragged scars by his eye, bouncing on his strong shoulders that were caped a red fabric payterned with white. Under that was different clothes favouring a blue and purple colour in difference to in bright red. Capricorn's brother was not alone; behind him were two fine guards well prepared to give protection where needed.  
    “King,” Capricorn spoke in a cracked voice as if not use to speaking with another, indifferent and patient. His brother looked down to him with that expression of annoyance he wore each time Capricorn refered to him as ‘King'. “...Toitus...” happiness was clear in the older one's dark eyes, “what is it you need?” Was it possible he knew of Mother's intentions? Or perhaps orginised it himself? ... No, that's not in his nature...  
    “Nothing I need. More like want,” Toitus approached his smaller-framed sibling with a calm expression. “Since Father's passage you've become distant -”  
    “I was already distant.”  
    “- Increasing distant, to both myself and Mother. You still have little interest in many things, education, the happenings in this country, sword play... You listen and participate but do not care for it. Why is this?” Capricorn averted his gaze to the wall to his left, pbserving the delicate craftsmanship of the gold patterening. “Capricorn,” Tiotus' gaze was intimidating and his tone was of warning and all Capricorn did was shuffle in uncomfort as he made a grumbling sound in the back of his throat.  
    “I just don't like it.”  
    “I don't believe you.” Capricorn shot Toitus a quick glare from the side, opening his mouth to object. “Whenever you're uncomfortable or don't like something you'll make that groaning sound - have done since you were little. I'm your older brother, I know these things.”  
    “But you don't know what my problem is, hm?” Capricorn shot back in annoyance equal to Toitus'. “So well known that my big mighty brother has discovered my habits. Oh my, I'm shocked! The money it would have cost to have one of your serevents observe me close enough to tell you that! What a crime! Well f-”  
    “Capricorn, that's enough!” The vibrant haired eighteen year old quickly closed his mouth tight, heart pounding as he stared into Toitus' intimidating gaze. “You're becoming far too foul-mouthed and my patients is dwindling, I have no idea where you're learning it from but it must stop now,” Toitus spoke. “Now, Mother requests your presence at dinner this evening. Be sure to be there early, dressed appropriately and act appropriately; we'll be having guests of importance staying tonight.” Toitus marched past Capricorn without a second glance with his two guards following after trying to mask their humour as they looked at Capricorn who was left stood in the middle of the hallway, hands balled into fists.  
    Capricorn didn't look back and he didn't follow his brother, instead he made his way to his bedroom to prepare for dinner like an obedient young child.

    Winthin the hours that past Capricorn made no effort to wander too far from his room, not the the beautiful palace gardens nor the areana where he'd practice his sword skills, instead he pace with a distinctive pout - when not in the presence of others. It was a nuisence to have guests at the palace, if only for Capricorn, it did no good to have people of power judge off their country and palace. He was currently pacing at the end of his bed, bare foot and half naked; the black trousers being the only form of cover to his pale body that showed no imperfections on the skin.  
    “... Every time! Every time we have guests she has me dress almost completely feminely!” Capricorn threw his arms in the air with a half scream, half sigh as he ranted at the three women that would assist in his dressing. He tended to exagerate with large arm movements when he was infuriated and had no choice but to vent his anger out through speech; he was just a bit dramatic. Capricorn's arms hid most of his face while he held his hands on his bright hair, frowning greatly as he eyed the blue clothes drapped in the middle womans arms in the corner of his eye. The women, of course, had heard all Capricorn's complaints a dozen times previously from other times he had to be in the presence of an important guest. These three women were dressed in the same blue dresses to represent their status and where they belonged, they'd tried desperately to keep the clothes his mother had pick out of sight but it wasn't all too long until his sharp eyes spotted the deep blue fabric hidden in the far corner of his room which was the moment the women attempted to convince him to wear the clothes and accesseraries.  
    “Young prince, please, your mother instructed us to have you dressed and at the feast hall early for introductions,” said the middle woman who was taller in height and had a larger bust than tge two others. Capricorn let out a long sigh, droping the arm closest to the women fall to his side while he ran his other hand through his hair for the tenth time in the twenty minutes the women had tried making him wear the clothes. In addition to his frown, Capricorn pouted as h

s. In addition to his frown, Capricorn pouted as he looked at the women with pleading eyes, hoping desperately that they'd let him select clothes of his own. No such luck. The middle woman just gave a small smile before holding the blue clothing up out of her arms to show it to Capricorn.  
    What the woman held up was clothes of deep blue fine fabric that flowed down like a dress (the dresses that each woman inhabiting the palace wore, except Capricorn's mother, only with greater detail and better in quality). There were no sleaves so the fabric would end at his shoulders and the colar was high and rigid, it didn't connect at the base of his neck but cut three fourths the way down the front and each side was connected together by five golden thin ropes that, on each end, were attached to small buttons. This dress-like clothing was also lined with golden stitching around the sides while there was red and gold stitching patterning on the back that created the symbol of the Alethema family - a pheonix with each wing spread out above its head, that was turned to the left side, and a long tail that speead out down the back of the clothing.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His Dark Material / Magnus Chase cross over fanfic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It doesn't follow the story line of either books. Most likely taking place before them.

     I suppose it should have been a huge shock to me when I found myself lay flat on my back in the entry courtyard of what I assumed must have been some rich persons... well, I personally wouldn't call it a house. From what I could tell from my position on the floor the building was made of white limestone and grey marble that shot right into the cloudy sky. I wonder how many floors this place has.

     I turned my head lazily to the right as if I was sleeping. There was more white limestone, this time in the form of a fifteen-foot-tall wall with no noticeable exit. I just turned my head back to look at the night sky then slowly closed my eyes. I didn't understand why, and large part of me didn't seem to care, but it felt like this was the first time I'd been relaxed in such a long time.

     It was the groaning sound of doors opening that made me turn my attention to what was going on around me; I had to squint from the blinding golden light that was spilling from the double doors of dark heavy wood bound with iron with a life-size animal head of some sort as a knocker in the center of each. From within the building came a burly man. The odd thing about him was that he was wearing a top hst, white gloves and a jacket of dark green with tails, and even with the light behind him I could see his ash smeared warty face scowling down at me through a untrimmed beard. He looked murderous - and not just because of his expression; hanging at his side was a double-bladed axe that he seemed to kept in better shape than his facial hair. Though why he'd chose a axe over a gun was beyond me, it wouldn't do all that much against someone who, like me, thought the best place to take a nap was the owner's garden (it was doubtful a person who looked as terrible as he did owned such a large building).

     This man shuffled towards where I lay and sniffed me like a trained dog, “You neef to come in to check in.”

     “Excuse me?” My voice rang in my ears. It was a strange, almost foreign sound that caught me by suprise but when I attempted to recall why the reason seemed to drift out of reach. I had no time to dwell on it however as the man came shuffling closer.

     “You're dead, aren't you?” Dead? When did I die? And if so, why don't I feel dead? These thoughts floated through my mind as I pushed myself off the ground while the man continued talking. “I'll show you to the regisration. Just follow me.” So I did.

    We walked through the doors (the knockers, I noticed, were of wolf heads) and into the foyer which was the first time I stopped as I took in its size. You'd think the building was big from the outside but the moment you get inside it would look like a normal sized house compared to just the foyer which was easily twice the size. On the wall to the right was a hearth as large as a bedroom with a small fire crackling lazily and a stuffed wolf head hung over the mantel. Around the hearth on the hardwood floor that covered the entire foyer were leather couches, I could nearly imagine how relaxing it would be rest on the as the fire warmed me. On the hardwood floor was an selection of animal skins, there was the black and white of a zebra, the yellow-gold of a lion and scaley lengthy forty foot reptile. Looking above me I could see that the cieling, which was held up by columns of tree trunks, was lined with spears for rafters like how the walls were covered in polished shields. This place was radiating that blinding light I had to squint through when the man had opened the doors, I just hoped the whole building wasn't like this or I really would go blind.

     The man continued towards the far corner where there was an overturned boat's keel with a man behind it. I followed.

     “... Any luggage?” I stared blankly. “Do you have any luggage?”

     “Oh,” I didn't recall seeing anything that looked like luggage outside but I could always be wrong. “No,” I decided.

     As I followed him I examined myself. The first thing that bothered me was that they were clean (when I thought about why it bothered me I couldn't quite pinpoint my reason), then there was that my clothes were much too warm and very different to the man's clothes. I was wearing thick furs, my coat was a light wolfskin one which had a heavy hood so that it would stay in place when it was up, my thick trousers were tucked into fur-lined boots, wrapped around my neck was a red scarf that would cover the lower half of my face if I pulled it up, and dangling from my coat's sleeves by a string were thick mitten-like gloves. All these clothes were of pale colours to blend into the surroundings easiler.

     When we reached the keel, which I assumed must be the check in desk as it had one of those odd computer machines on it, I noticed the man behind it was similar to the one who'd opened the doors. His face was covered by his overly large messy beard and his hair didn't look any better. Unlike the man who'd brought me in this one wore a green pinstriped suit with what seemed to be a name tag on it.

     “Welcome! Checking in?” This guy seemed in a better mood than the doorman but still didn't look all that pleased. He continued talking, “You realize check-in time is three p.m. Dying at one a.m. can cause some difficultly, I can't guarantee a room will be avaliable.”

     “I could always sleep on that couch by the fire,” I offered genually wanting to rest there. It seemed the perfect place.

     “No,no,” he said tapping at the keyboard. A moment later I was disturbed by the three-toothed grin he was giving me. “Here we are. We've upgraded you to a suite.” I heard a ‘hmph' come from the doorman and the one behind the keel gave him a warning glare. “How many keys would you like?”

     “Um... Where exactly am I?”

     “All will be explained to you at dinner. That's when new guests are formally welcomed. Though seeing as you're here at an outragously early time you could make yourself aquainted with your hallmates after a long rest, they'll probably answer most of your questions.”

     “Oh,” was all I could reply with.

     “I expect one key will be sufficient, yes?” He handed me my key which turned out to be a stone with a engraving in the center of it. “Would you like the minibar key?”

     “Minibar?” I muttered before the doorman answered for me.

     “Yes, kid, you want the minibar key.”

     “Yes, I want the minibar key,” I repeated. I wanted that minibar key. I was passed the minibar key.

     “Hunding will now show you to your room. Enjoy your afterlife.”

     I was following the doorman again, who I now knew was called Hunding. I wonder if he has a name tag too. By the time he'd escorted me the elevator everything I'd just seen leaked right out of my head. I was sure there had been many large halls and an incredible amount of games but if you asked me what my favourite part was I'd have no answer.

     “So I’m dead? Actually dead?”

     Hunding looked at me. “Well, it's more like you've been upgraded than died, but yes.”

     “Upgraded? How do you mean?”

     “You're one Odin's chosen, soldiers in his eternal army. We're einherjar,” he proncounced it in-hair-yar. “Einherji is singular.” He pronounced it in-hair-yee. “We're warriors who fought bravely in the past life and will fight bravely on the Day of Doom.”

     “Day of Doom? Sounds like it will be our doom.” I watched the indicator for the floor we were on go up. “What's the difference between when I was alive and now I'm a... einherji, was it?”

     Hunding gave a nod. “When you were mortal you could die at any point and somethings you simiply couldn't do. Now, as an einherji you’ll be faster, stronger and tougher than regular mortals and you'll also be immortal.”

     “Immortal?”

     “Yeah. If you die here in Valhalla you’ll be resurrected.” Just then the door of the elevator, that I was only now realising was made of spears, opened to the floor I'd be staying on.

     Usually the halls of hotels are thin and the space between each room was small but here the hall was so wide a game if football could have been played in it. The floor was covered in a blood-red carpet that had swaying tree-branch designs pattened on it. The ceiling was twenty feet high and, much like the foyer, was lined with spears for rafters. The walls had swords, shields and tapestries on them, all being shone on by an orange glow from the torches that burned in their iron sconces. When I focused on these torches I was suprised to see they made no smoke. Between the displays, about fifty feet apart, were doors of rough-hewn oak bound in iron with not handles or locks to open them. In the center of each door was an iron circle roughly the size of a plate with markings on them (I assumed they were the names of the person who lived in them). No noise was coming from behind any of these doors.

     We neared the end of the hallway, almost at the T where this wo

 

(oh no. A bit got deleted! I think)

 

. If you die here in Valhalla you’ll be resurrected.” Just then the door of the elevator, that I was only now realising was made of spears, opened to the floor I'd be staying on.

     Usually the halls of hotels are thin and the space between each room was small but here the hall was so wide a game if football could have been played in it. The floor was covered in a blood-red carpet that had swaying tree-branch designs pattened on it. The ceiling was twenty feet high and, much like the foyer, was lined with spears for rafters. The walls had swords, shields and tapestries on them, all being shone on by an orange glow from the torches that burned in their iron sconces. When I focused on these torches I was suprised to see they made no smoke. Between the displays, about fifty feet apart, were doors of rough-hewn oak bound in iron with not handles or locks to open them. In the center of each door was an iron circle roughly the size of a plate with markings on them (I assumed they were the names of the person who lived in them). No noise was coming from behind any of these doors.

     We neared the end of the hallway, almost at the T where this would be linked to a different one, before stopping in front a door almost exactly like the others with the only difference of my name being on the iron plate rather than another persons.

     “Go ahead,” said Hunding and pointed at the stone, key, in my hand. I turned the stone over in my lightly tanned hand. The engraved symbol looked like an R but I had a feeling it probably meant something else. “That's raidho. It symbolizes the wheel, jouney and also opens your door. You're the only one with access.”

     I held the stone up to the door, looking for its match. It was only now that I noticed how much my legs were trembling, how it was hard to breathe, how much I was just willing myself to wake up from this nightmare. But most of all I noticed that a presence that I was so familiar with, so connected with, was no longer there and the realisation of that made me want to curl up in a corner and drown myself in my own tears. Pushing the thought aside, I placed the stone to it's matching symbol. The ring of symbols glow green then the door swung open to reveal my room.

     I stepped in hesidently and any negative thoughts still lingering in my mind were swept away.

     The room was incredible. The suite was shaped like a cross and in the middle was a central atrium that looked familiar. Four large, dark natural lookibg rock columns sprouted from four points making a square if you connected them. At the rocks peeks ice formed and twisted itself around the rock columns in the particular way that it went ice, rock, ice, rock. In the center was a camp fire that crackled and popped as if waiting for me to do something, it was surrounded by four low stone seats that curved in a curcle around the fire and could each seat two people of average size. Above was an opening to a dark cloudy sky from which small snow flakes fluttered down but didn't have chance to settle before they evaporated.

     Each of the four sections of the suite were different and all as large as a flat. The entry to my suite was the first section. This part hadn't been filled with all that much but on either side were mahogony and glass cabinets that held precious artefacts I'd came across in my travels but for the life (or death perhaps?) of me I couldn't remember where I'd gone to recover them. Each polished artefact was on its own little pedistal with a shining gold plaque saying what each piece was. On the walls were oil lamps which gave an orange glow to the pieces in the cabinets. There was a band of precious stones and gems that created a paterned mosaic on the oak walls (this I noticed went around the would suite, not just the entry hall). The floor was covered by a soft carpet patterned with a large lotus flower in the center surrounded by the same dark grey as the rock columns in the atrium, around the edge the carpet was patterned with thr colouts that were on the band on the walls.

     The section to the left of the entry hall was a dressing and bathroom area. I first saw that the tiles on the floor created the same pattern that was on the carpet in the entry hall and the tiles on the walls were the same colour as the lotus flower. On the walls were the same oil lamps that cast an orange glow in the entry hall. In this section were things I was curious about but had never tried and also things I'd enjoyed using; a sauna, a hot tub, a walk-in wardrobe, a walk-in shower and a thrown-like toilet. I don't think the people who'd made this had been introduced to the phrase over the top.

     The bedroom section was the opisite side to the bathroom/dressing section. The carpet in there was the same as in the entry hall and so were the walls, only those walls were decorated with oil paintings in beautifly carved frames made to fit each painting individually along with oil lamps. A bed, a four-poster king-size bed with thick dark grey curtains, fluffy pillows and sheets (which had a large lotus flower design stitched in the center of it), had its mahogony headboard against the wall. A small distance away from the foot of the bed were canvases ready to paint and a plain wooden stool which had a paint pallet and brushes placed on it, ready for use.

     The final section was by far my favourite. It was a kitchen and living room. The kitchen side was much like any modern kitchen only it was in an older style and, because of the island, the tile didn't create a large lotus flower in the middle but instead for every couple of dark grey tiles there was a lotus flower taking up the space of a tile. The living room side was much different and part of it I don't think could actually be classed as ‘living room’ but more like ‘forge’, and yes that does mean there was one. The far back half of the space was for the forge. All the equipment was right there along with metals all sorted into what it was. The forge (no, this wasn't any forge, it was mine and it was unique) couldn't have any carpet under it so thr floor was bare dark grey rock that streched the entire section of living room, all the way over to the couch and hearth. The couch and hearth looked much like the ones down in the foyer when I'd first came in only things weren't as large here. The hearth was one the wall oposite the kitchen with a bookshelf full of books crafted into the wall and the couch was facing into it to get full heat from the fire. There was a square carpet rolled out in this part and had that same lotus flower design. Around this part was also spyglasses and hunting gear seen in the glow of the oil lamps on the walls.

     The whole suite took my breath away. It was perfect.

     I turned back to the entry hall where Hunding was stood lookibg at my suite in a mix of shock and amazement. “I haven't seen someone your age wanting a suite like this in a very long time,” he said quitely.

     “Really?”

     “Most modern kids want something a lot more bold than this.” Before I could ask what he meant by that Hunding straightened a little. “If you have any questions, call the front desk.”

     “So I can ask why there are so many lotus flowers about?”

     “All suites customize themselves to what the guest likes. You've earned those little perks, eh?”

     I couldn't think of how I could have possibly earnt anything. The first thing I could remember clearly was the outside of this building. It’s so confusing, one moment I'm certain of something and answer straight away the next I'm questioning myself if I was right but the answer never reaches me. It was infuriating.

     “Been a pleasure serving you and welcome to Hotel Valhalla” Hinding held out his palm and waited. I realised what it was he wanted and began searching my pockets. It was only then that I discovered my left hand was missing the two end fingers, all that remained were small stumps of what used to be them. If I resurrect why would I be missing two fingers? I continued searching through my many pockets, half aware of the strange feeling of those absent fingers, and only found one thing. It was small in my hand and was soft but firm like wood. When my enclosed fist was out of my pocket I slowly uncurled my fingers. Sat in my palm was a carving of a howling wolf, its head back and its tail wrapped around its feet.

     “Um, this is all I've got,” I showed Hunding. “Would it be okay?”

     He took the carving with a smile. “Yes, that fine. If you need anything, let me know. Before dinner your Valkyrie will come ger you.” Valkyrie? What in the world is one of those. “See you, kid. Try not to get killed before dinner.” And then Hunding left me still wondering about what he'd said.

     I stared at the door as a feeling of loneliness washed over me. It was an abnormal feeling, loneliness. I had no idea what to do with myself. I felt the new, strange feeling of vunrability. I didn't like it. I didn't want to be here. I wanted... What did I want? To go home? Was there even a place I could call home? That wasn't something I wanted to think about.

     The suite was hot despite the atrium having an open cieling letting in cool air so, seeing as it was much too early in the morning to be doing anything but rest, I moved myself from the atrium over to the bathroom/dressing area. The plan was to strip of all my clothing then see if there was any clothes provided by this place that I could sleep in. Undetailed plans usually take longer than you expect. When I started unbottoning my wolfskin coat I looked up and a ear-piercing screech ran up my throat. I felt back to the tiled floor, so did my reflection. My heart was pounding almost too hard for me to focus.

     Yes, that was me. I could stare into my large hazel eyes. I could blink and my long eyelashes would flutter. I could move my head and my long blond hair would follow. I could see no inperfections on my pale face. I was... pretty. I gave my reflection a scowl and it did the same back at me. No use. With a scoff I turn my back to the mirror. I was too old to be pretty.

     I continued removing my many layers of clothes, stopping when I got to my underwear. The cool air calmed me down enough that it put me in a sleepy trance, searching through the wardrobe slowly with a stiffled yawn. Everything I saw had PROPERTY OF HOTEL VALHALLA (or simply HV) written somewhere on it; the three sets of jeans and T-shirts, the underwear, the socks, the pair of running shoes, and the three sets of lake blue nightwear.

     Changed into the hotel's comfortable nightwear trousers and button-up shirt, I wrapped my thick red scarf around my neck twice before depositing the clothes I’d arrived in into the laundry basket. Though they may have been magically cleaned I still didn't like the thought of not getting them washed again. It was time I got some rest, my body was begging me so much I couldn't refuse. I barely realised I'd taken my hair tie out when I fell face first onto the soft bed before sleep took me over.

\--------------------

     The bed was much more comfortable than I imagined. I slept so peacefully and so deeply that I didn't hear the pounding on my door, as my hallmates told me, instead I woke to what sounded like a mountain being dropped the tops of the clouds crossed with a cracking gun shot.

     If anyone ever says I screeched squikily I'll deny it. I gave a very warrior-like shout as I jumled and tumbled off the bed. Falling off the bed would have been fine if my scarf wasn't on, it was pulled tight around my neck in my attempt to get to my feet which just caused me to fall back to the floor, knock my chin and bite my tongue. Holding my left hand to my mouth I scrambled to the door, pulling it wide open before immidiately slamming it shut and pressing my back to it, eyes scrunched closed. A second crack-bang sounded, poping my ears and shaking my whole body, not only from the sound but the impact that hit the door.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I accidentally deleted parts

     “... Hmm. I don't really get that..." said a voice, muffled by the door. "That's not exactly true...” they commented about.

     “I like that one. Where'd you find it?”

     “If I told you you'd go in search, trying to find something to top it.”

     “It's healthy competition.”

     “Then go in search of something on your own.”

     “...Hey, do you think this one's true? ‘When one door of happiness closes, another opens; but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one which has been opened for us.’ “

     “Maybe. I wouldn't really know if I'd been concerntrating on the closed door, would I?”

     “Haha, of course ...”

     The two voices muffled by the door grew silent. Both sounded like men, young men, so I wasn't quite sure I was in the right place. I'm sure I'd been told I’d be the only one here like I'd requested, thinks always get awkward when people are around me. Having just moved out of my parents house I contacted a family friend who owned many homes that she could rent out or sell, I trusted her to get it right. I suppose the stress of a baby got to her.

     I exhaled slowly. There was nothing I could do about it now, I'd just stsy out of their way for the majority of the time. I fished in my back pocket for the small silver key I was given and opened the door with a click. I knocked the door twice with the back of ny pale knuckles out of habbit before opening it to greet, or explain why I was there, the residents of the large house.

     Inside I found the two men in charge of the voices. They seemed like brothers only a few years apart, they had the same dark hair and narrowed eyes, the elder of the two had more defined features and his eyes were sharp and caculating unlike the younger one whose eyes weren't as sharp and very curious. There was something I hated about the both of the though, their height; the elder of them was easily six foot three while the other reached six foot, a great distance from my five foot four. I was incredibly glad they weren't closer to me or I'd be dying of embarassment when I'd have to look up at them.  
     “Hello, how can we help you?” Six-Three asked in his smooth voice. It sounded perfect for reading out poetry or a book of any type, deadly scenes of violence or sweet love scenes that could make a heart swell with emotion. I could feel his stare boring into me but I couldn't help but avert my eyes away.

     “I’m supposed to be renting this house and I was told it would be empty when I arrived,” I explained with my voice free of nerves despite my entire body overflowing with them. Quite the achievement.

     “Ah.” Six-Three looked towards a large pile of un-opened letters. “Sorry, we decided we'd go camping for a week or two so we've been unable to recieve any news; we got back late last night.”

     “Hey, this is really cool! We can all live here together. Our family just keeps getting bigger and bigger! I'll go get the rest so we can introduce ourselves to each other!” called Six-Z as he raced away. My heart dropped like a rock.

     “ ‘The rest'?” I muttered, “How many of you are there?”

     “Excluding yourself, twelve people currently live here.”

     It's safe to say I didn't stick around for long after I heard that piece of news. I turned right around and strolled off without a word with my suitcase rolling behind me, wobbling over the gravel driveway. I reached my car, a cute little blue mini, and shoved my suitcase in the back with some other junk I'd been meaning to remove then climbed into the drivers side but didn't put the key in the ignition. Instead I searched around in the glove compartment for my glasses and phone book, having bought a new phone it was nessassary. I quickly flipped to the page I was looking for and traced my index finger under the number, phome in hand typing it out. I didn't even hesitate when pressing the call button


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER ONE

   “Promise me; do not stray far for long.” The voice of a woman begged.  
    She was young and slim with long brown hair tied up in an untidy bun tied the back of her head. She wore a dress of earth colours to conceal herself from drunken wrong doers with her hands clasped together in front of her.  
   Her tearing eyes of brown looking lovingly into the sparkling green eyes of a young man with the unusual shade of white-blond hair that struck up in areas like knives upon his head. He wore a white shirt covered in grime and soot along with brown trousers and leather boots, on his face the unrare sight of a sooty grin of healthy teeth.  
   “You know it is not I who plans my travels.” He told her in a soft voice, placing a hand on her face.  
   “Then promise you’ll come back to me…” She pleaded quietly and in return was given a soft smile.  
   “Has there ever been a time you doubted my return?” He questioned in his gentle voice. The young woman hesitated.  
   “No, yet I fear one day I’ll be wrong.” She looked at him, a single tear falling over her cheek. He sighed.  
   “Yes, one day I will fail to return to your side, but that will not happen soon – I refuse to let it happen.” He wiped the clear tear away with the thumb of his other hand which he placed on the side of her face so that both hands cupped her cheeks in his hands. “When I next return, it will be me and you; I’ll come back with a new story, a new song. It will be ours to share …” He placed his lips on her own, gently as if she were a delicate petal he wished no harm to fall upon. “Just you and me.” She smiled sadly at him.  
   “After this next trip … promise me you’ll never leave again.” She asked quietly as he looked at her, unsure of what she was going to tell him. “You’re always gone so long, please … I want – I want your child to grow with their father by their side!” She stared fiercely into his shocked, wide, green eyes as one hand rested itself on her shoulder and the other ran through his hair.  
   “You – You’re actually –” She was nodding with a small smile on her face and tears in her eyes while he had no idea what to do.  
   “Riddell!” Called a gruff voice from behind him. It was a man with a huge amount of grey unruly hair, stormy grey eyes and a wooden leg that made a clunking noise every time he took a step.  
   “Captain.” The old man limped his way over to the young man and woman, glaring through bushy eyebrows.  
   “Why do you always wander off before we set sail, lad? If you’re not careful you’ll be left behind next time.” The Captain joked but Riddell looked at the woman.  
   “Yes, next time I will be left behind – with a new family I’ve found for myself.” Riddell smiled at the woman.  
   “Well I’ll be.” The Captain said examining the two of them and chuckling to himself. “I’ll have you a drink of celebration on the ship.” He informed Riddell, patting him roughly on the shoulder before making his way back to the wooden, large ship anchored at the docks.  
   Riddell turned to the woman, placing his hands on her waist and holding her close.  
“Our little boy will grow to be an intelligent, strong young man who’ll be able to protect his family from anyone.” Riddell gave her one last kiss before disappearing through the crowd and to the ship.  
   The woman looked sadly after his retreating body and held her belly.  
   “Please, come home to us.”  
   A small droplet of water slipped down her cheek. Above her was a bright blue sky with few white clouds but not a rain cloud in sight.

 

CHAPTER TWO

   The young blond haired Riddell was at the wheel of the wooden ship, triangular hat on his head and black eye patch over his right eye as to be ready to adjust to the dark surroundings of below deck.  
   Using his right hand to steer and his left hand to hold the pocket sized brass compass, he had the ship under control while the crewmen manned the ropes, cleaning and preparing.  
   “Captain!” Called the gruff voice of that grey old man. Riddell snapped the compáss closed. He looked slightly over his shoulder before beckoning the old man to his side. He was carrying a fine, deep red, long coat with golden stitching and white cuffs, along with a brown belt to hold a long, thin, sharp sword and spygláss.  
   Riddell first took the belt in hand to fasten it around his body loosely so it became tilted downwards on the right side where the sword hung.  
   “Hrm …” Riddell held the coat up in front of him. On inspection, there was no fraying or tears. “I’ve never felt a true desire to wear these sorts of clothing.” Riddell gave the coat a look of disgust.  
   “It’s a requirement, sir.” The old man explained, giving the young Captain a wary look. Of course, it wasn't necessarily a requirement but something which would give him a improved Captain's vibe.  
   “I suppose so.” Riddell merely draped the new coat over his back and shoulders. Riddell turned back to the wheel, silent for a few moments while the sleeves and end of the coat flapped gently in the wind, and with not a glance, announced to the old man, “Stare any longer and you’ll combust into flames, whether that be within your body or out, the decision can be determined rather quickly.” The tone in which Riddell talked was nonthreatening and quiet as he barely moved his thin lips, but the old man swallowed hard and turned his gaze to the other crewmen immediately.  
   Half week had passed by from their departure and only now Riddell shed the mask of crew member to reclaim the title of Captain. It as a tactic he used every time before, though, the crew only heard tales of these things as not one of them was a member of his previous crew.  
   The old man remembered the conversation he and the crew men had the previous night in detail, even the last fearful drop of sweat falling down the side of his face.

///  
   “I don’t believe it!” Roared a drunken man as he stumbled over to the table. He wore dark clothes to match his dark hair and eyes along with his dark cursing. It was recalled by the old man that this drunken mess was one of the above deck cleaners; he didn’t enjoy the job in the slightest. “That runt of a spoilt brat is our Captain?!” His drink spilt over himself as he cursed Riddell.  
   "I’d watch that rotten mouth of yours if I was you.” Laughed a second man. He was very much like the drunken man, only this one had a large, red, running nose that he was constantly sniffing with, wiping it messily along his dirt covered shirt. He tended the ropes.  
  "The Captain might flee in terror of your foul language!” He, the drunk and a third man roared with uncontrollable laughter while the rest of the crew slipped their drinks quietly, cautiously.  
   “You drunks shouldn’t take the Captain of this ship so lightly.” Growled a deep voice from the shadow. All heads turned to this new speaker. Naught of his face could be seen from within the shadows but the dark leather boots crossed onto the table and the deep voice told the other crewmen that the man sitting before them was none other than the Captain’s second in command. The drunks snorted and snickered, unable to recognise the new man.  
   "He’s right you know.” Stated a third drinking man in soaked clothes from the salty water, having fallen overboard previous hours ago with no sun to dry them – though it was mere luck that he got on board again as Riddell refused to send him help, barely showing that he noticed the man fall overboard with the slightest glance the man’s way. “I’ve heard things about him, what he can do to his crew.” He told them in a matter-of-fact tone as he lent in over the table. “Why do you think he ain’t ever had any of us in his crew before?” He nodded his head importantly, leaning back in his chair as the many crew members who’d bothered to listen went into deep thought. Although the drunken men listened, their views were clear – the silence has been interrupted by a loud snort from the leader of the drunks.  
   “That runt can’t ‘ave had a ship before, never mind a crew. He’ll be puking over the side of the ship in no time! You’ll see …” The drunken man rambled off with feminine giggles, much unlike his sober self. Many crew men join in with his laughter, now certain their fear was merely of the second in command’s presence.  
   That man gave a sinister, dark, demonic vibe to the place. It is no wonder why a man such him was the second in command.    Thought the bear faced old man, but he could not shake the ássumption that something about him was not of the ordinary; looking around, the old man could only see pathetic men with barely any muscle to boast about, common in near to new crewmen, except the second in command. With a brain like his …    the old man considered, why would he want ássistance from these dimwitted men? Not one of them seems able to do their job accurately without complaint.  
   The old man took a gulp of alcoholic drink as he listened to the babbling of the drunken men.  
   As he did so, he recalled that crumbling memory of a young boy fascinated by everything around him, but also how that boy couldn’t conceal his intelligence and wits along with his playful, wide eyed stare he gave each person he found an interest in. The old man couldn’t say he particularly knew the young boy from his home town, but he couldn’t imagine the young man to be him despite the similarities in appearance; that playful stare seemed to never have been there, it was instead replaced with a bored desire to push everyone down into the filthy, unrespectable, undesirable pit beneath him, to use the unclean, unwanted, unnecessary pawns to rise to the top. This man was not the boy who desired to experience the world from above and by sea, not the boy who dreamed, who wondered, who desired to cling to that spider’s thin thread to drag the world up with him. No, the man was not that boy. That little riddle had been figured out a long time ago …  
   The old man's deep thoughts disappeared as a incredibly sinister air followed the elegant steps of the man draped in red as he descended from above.  
   No one communicated.  
   No one moved.  
   No one dared speak out of line.  
   The young Captain had joined them in their fiery debated of that man himself.  
   His face was striped of all emotion as he stilled himself upon the final step of the old wooden stairs, eyes drifting over the heads of each crewman, all of which followed each of his movements with terrored importance.  
   The old man noticed much too late of the Captain's intentions as his seemingly emotionless gaze fell upon the leader of the drunken men.  
   It was not to force a point onto the crew.  
   It was not to prove his strength.  
   No, it was to rid himself of a unnecessary pawn that was going against his laws.  
   Riddell was emotionless and could slay a man without a conscious at this point. He'd set himself a task and he was going to fulfill it with as little complication and hesitation as possible.  
    He unnoticeably shifted his weight and body to one side in one silent movement as his eyes narrowed slightly in concentration at the drunken man. Then, with a delicate movement of his right hand, he grasped the hilt of his sword. Suddenly, and swiftly, he unsevered the silver sword as he carelessly yet accurately spun the hilt with his fingers so that the whole sword was rested in his hand as it usually would be if he was prepared for a fight. This was all done with such quick pace and skill that he done this as he lunged towards the drunk.  
   He raised his slender arm while pulling it back so that his hand was pulled back to his ear, un-merciful, sharp, green eyes unblinking as they kept a clear view of their target.  
   And with that sharp movement, the beast in front of him was slayed.  
   Riddell's body lunged forward as he went in to strike the ending fatal blow, to kill.  
   Riddell's eyes were dull of emotion or mercy as they stared into the murky, misty, mud-like eyes of the drunken man, sword's point narrowing in on it's victim.  
   The strike was immensely strong, powering Riddell to pierce the man's skull smoothly. The sword impaled him through layers of skin, spilling crimson blood out onto his head and coughed up from his sickly mouth, flecks dancing on Riddell's cheeks, colouring his right eyelid and eye patch and dressing his pale hair.  
   His eyes dulled as his body fell backwards, led by his impaled head. And as his limp body hit the small, dark, wooden table surrounded by his drunken partners, a ghostly screech erupted from the lost soul, eyes burning with gruesome, dead, crimson flames while a pool of blood formed a broken halo around the man's while his final drunken grin supported a drool of blood from the corner of his cold lips.  
   The sword still impaled into the screeching terror, Riddell leaned down, one hand still gripping the weapon and feet planted either side of his pawn, until his blood flecked face came within an inch of the drunk's nose. Riddell's eyes gleamed with amusement as he slowly brought his left index finger up across his lob-sided smile. The sign of silence.  
   The screeching died into a silent hiss of devastation with the crimson flames extinguish alongside the hiss; droplets of blood escaping onto the floor.  
  With that lob-sided smile invisible from Riddell's features, he swung his body up with one lazily elegant motion as if he had merely lost a chess game without care or effort. He didn't seem to acknowledge the bloody mess before him as he slowly slid the silver sword from the man's skull, a disturbing fleshy scraping and oozing sounding emitting from it.  
   The corpse gradually slid from the table and onto the wooden floor with a heavy thump as if it was his last heartbeat escaping his body long after it died, leaving a trail of sickly dark blood in its wake...  
   Riddell turn his attention to the second in command, absentmindedly flicking the sword to rid it of blood as he did so.  
   "Have this rotten filth thrown overboard then return yourself to my quarters; there is a matter I must confide you with." With that simple tone of luring trustingness Riddell disappeared up the steps to reach the floor above.  
   That man seemed unaffected by the events of that evening while the crewmen could muster up a way to be sick at what they just witnessed, every last one of them scarred with sweat dripping down the back of their necks.  
\\\\\


	9. 5;3 3.!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just what the title says.

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T_h_e_____e_n_d________ :p


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